


envy

by blondeslytherin



Series: seven deadly sins [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cheating, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Heartbreak, Hurt, Jealousy, M/M, Other relationships - Freeform, Phone Sex, Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Sexting, Wow, envy - Freeform, this is just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondeslytherin/pseuds/blondeslytherin
Summary: envy: a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.~~~“Envy, thy name is Keith,” Shiro says, sounding amused, and Keith snaps his gaze back to the table only to find the other four members of their party watching him with interest.“Why would I be jealous of Lance? I’m gay.”“Not Lance,” Pidge says slowly, pointing. “Allura.”





	envy

**Author's Note:**

> so this is... not something I expected to write. This is the first of my new series (ah!) and because it's seven deadly sins, there are some things included in here that I don't totally condone. But, ya know, fanfiction. Also! Head over to my tumblr for exciting news!
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy, and comments and kudos make my entire world

It all starts with a text, followed by a frantic FaceTime call.

Before he can even react, Lance’s tan face is filling his small phone screen, eyes wide and panicked and words coming out faster than the connection can process.

“You’ll never believe what just happened.”

Keith pretends to think for a moment, trying to steady his own heartbeat, and rocking back on his heels where he stands in the middle of a grocery store. “I don’t know, Lance, Allura finally said yes to you asking her out?” _Ah, there’s the pasta sauce he was looking for._

“Yes!” Lance shrieks, and the pasta sauce slips from his grasp. Despite his desperate fumbling, he can’t recover it, and it splatters to the ground with a large _crack_ , sending red liquid everywhere, coating him from the feet up and leaving him gaping in the middle of the aisle while Lance shrieks in his ear, oblivious to all else outside of his own head.

That’s how it all starts: with a shattered jar of pasta sauce and a seed, burrowing deep down inside, so small he doesn’t even notice.

~~~  
Lance has his arm wrapped around Allura, his mouth tucked against her neck as he murmurs something too low for Keith to hear on the opposite side of the booth, but Allura hears it just fine, giggling as her dark cheeks dust pink.

They’re out bowling, and it’s Shiro’s turn now, but Keith can’t seem to focus on anything other than the sight in front of him. His upper lip curls as he watches Lance plant another kiss on Allura’s neck, and his drink turns sour in his stomach when she places a delicate hand over her mouth, trying and failing to stifle her laughter.

Hunk and Pidge are off getting refills on their endless fry basket (and Keith is pretty sure the company regrets that policy, given that they’re on fry basket number four, with only their first game halfway done), Shiro is up to bowl, and Adam is doing his best to distract him. Which leaves Keith exactly where he is, ice bumping his nose as he takes another drink, eyes low on the clearly happy couple in front of him.

There’s a cheer from Adam and the distinct sound of a ball landing in the gutter, and Keith is pushed to the side as a huffing Shiro slides back into the booth.

“You know, it’s really not fair,” he grumbles. “I only have one arm and suddenly everyone thinks it’s _so funny_ to fuck with the amputee.”

“That’s not my reasoning and you know it,” Adam replies, his tone light but his face bordering on a more serious note.

It earns him a stuck-out tongue in reply, and Adam laughs, face softening.

 _Ugh,_ Keith thinks. _Now there’s more of them._

Not that Adam and Shiro are the problem; trust him, he’s happy to see Shiro so happy. He’s just sick of seeing all the various couples surrounding him, feeling like love and joy are being choked down his throat.

God, now he’s really sounding emo.

“Allura, it’s your turn to bowl,” Shiro says, gesturing with his drink straw at the scoreboard.

She starts to move out of the booth, but Lance tugs her back and plants a kiss on her temple, claiming it’s for luck.

_What kind of Netflix rom-com hell was he living in?_

And then he’s being shoved again as Pidge and Hunk return with their next round of endless fries, and because of the circular booth design, he’s right up against Lance.

_Oh._

Lance shifts over to allow for him, snagging a handful of fries out of the basket and stuffing them into his mouth. “How you doin, Mullet?” he asks around his mouthful.

Keith shrugs. “We’re bowling.”

“Then why do you look and sound like you’re at a funeral?”

Keith shrugs again just as Lance slings his free arm around his shoulders, causing him to stiffen.

_Oh._

Lance must feel him do this, because he shoots him a side-eye. “You aren’t a sore loser, are you Mullet?”

“You do know that I’m winning right now, right Lance?” he drawls in a bored tone, trying and failing to shift away from the weight over his shoulders.

Lance leans in close to his ear, and breathes in a hot whisper that sounds so much dirtier than words ever should, “you do know I’m right behind you, right?”

Keith swallows hard, and Lance chooses that moment to back away, laughing. “How about we make this a competition?” he says. “Winner has to buy the other dinner.”

“If you weren’t dating Allura, I’d say you were trying to ask me out on a date.” His voice wobbles, and Keith inwardly cringes as Lance’s eyes darken just a fraction, before he’s laughing a second time, and sliding out of the booth.

“Alright, so no prize. May the best of us—also known as me—win.”

And then he’s gone, and Keith loses the warmth that had been pressed into his side, and Lance is slinging an arm around Allura’s waist as he waits for the pins to reset for his turn.

He watches the happy couple, and that same sour feeling returns.

“Envy, thy name is Keith,” Shiro says, sounding amused, and Keith snaps his gaze back to the table only to find the other four members of their party watching him with interest.

“No, what—I’m not—”

“Oh my god, your face is so red right now!” Adam says, snorting.

“That’s not even the right quote,” Keith finally manages to get out, feeling his face grow even warmer and wishing he could sink into the ground. “Why would I be jealous of Lance? I’m gay.”

“Not Lance,” Pidge says slowly, pointing. “Allura.”

“I’m not—” Keith starts to say, but then he follows to where she is pointing, to where Allura is clapping and cheering Lance on as he bowls another spare, and Keith frowns.

“I’m not envious of either of them,” he says with finality, and Adam mumbles something under his breath, but nobody else says anything.

And that’s that. Nobody here is envious or jealous or anything else other than happy for the happy couple, thank you very much.

The seed grows larger.

~~~  
He’s scrolling through Instagram when he comes across a recent post from Lance on his timeline. It’s six photo’s worth, all done in the same filter (Keith has heard him numerous times complaining about making sure his entire feed matches—“it’s for the aesthetic!”). The first one is a landscape shot, of a waterfall and some flowers that just screams picturesque. The next one is like the first, but this time, it’s just Lance. Keith’s thumb hovers over that one, double tapping on Lance’s grinning face.

It’s the third photo that makes his stomach sink.

Allura grins at the camera, white hair swept into a perfect messy bun, sunglasses hiding her shocking eyes, white teeth on full display. If he zooms in, he can see Lance’s reflection in her glasses, can see the smile on his face half-hidden by the phone. He can see happiness radiating out of both.

He knows he should stop here. He’s liked the picture, time to move on. But he keeps swiping.

In fourth one, it’s the two of them together, Lance with his arm slung around her in what’s quickly becoming his signature style. Allura’s smile has faltered slightly, but he’s still there, looking just as happy and radiant. Looking so perfectly _Lance._

The fifth photo is another landscape photo, and Keith takes a moment to appreciate Lance’s camera skills.

Until he gets to the final photo. It’s in selfie mode to capture this moment, with Allura snuggled up to Lance’s side and him, pressing a kiss to her cheek while her sunglasses have been perched atop her head to let the whole world see her shining eyes.

They shine with love.

At least, Keith thinks it’s love.

_I wish that was me standing with him._

He shuts off his phone, dropping it somewhere on his bed and rolling onto his side, tucking his comforter up to his chin. He’s happy for them—of course he is. Lance has pined over Allura since the moment they all met in college. Four long years later and they’re here, together.

The seed grows larger, and Keith starts to wonder if maybe—just maybe—he likes Lance a little more than just platonically.

~~~  
It’s another night at the bar. Keith is on drink number two, watching Lance beg and plead with the karaoke man, his words indistinguishable but his face readable enough. The karaoke man isn’t budging on whatever Lance wants to sing, and Pidge snickers from next to Keith in the booth.

“We’ve been coming here since before we were twenty-one and in all of those years, the dude hasn’t let him sing it. Why’s he think tonight’s going to be the night?”

Hunk takes a long sip of his beer before answering. “Because he’s dating Allura. Ever since that moment, it’s like he thinks he can do anything. She gave him, like, superpowers or some shit.”

The alcohol turns sour in his mouth and Keith has to force the swallow down. “What’s he even see in her anyway?”

He can feel Pidge’s side eye and the gaze Hunk turns on him isn’t just curious; he knows something too.

“She’s like, a goddess in heels, but besides that, he thinks she put the moon in the sky,” Pidge says in a dead tone, hiccupping unexpectedly. “Really, that’s a stupid question and you know it. He’s in love with like everything she does. Hell, sometimes _I’m_ in love with her.”

“Yeah but she’s not…” he struggles to find the end of his sentence, gesturing with his hands. _She’s not what he needs._ But he can’t say that aloud because how in the hell would he explain a statement like that? He takes another drink instead, frowning as some of it spills down his shirt. _Damn, might need to slow down there._

Lance comes over in a huff, saving Keith from Hunk’s open-mouthed objection to whatever Keith didn’t say, and slides in next to the big guy, stealing his beer and taking a long sip.

“Alrighty then,” Hunk says, but doesn’t look mad. Pidge, on the other hand, wraps her hands protectively around her glass as if Lance will be coming for hers next.

“Still won’t let me sing the damn song,” Lance mutters when he’s finally done drinking, swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Hunk pats him on the shoulder, using his free hand to take back his stolen—and now nearly empty—drink. “Next time, bud. But until then, we have other songs we know we kill at, and we can dance and drink.”

Lance perks up at this. “Hell yeah we can!”

Pidge mutters something under her breath as Keith chuckles. It’s always been the two of them: Lance and Hunk. Friends from middle school, they shared a room their first year of college until Lance learned he loved Hunk but couldn’t stand living with him. And then it was Keith and Lance, roommates and sometimes rivals.

But it didn’t matter how close Lance and Hunk were; the entire group was tight knit, and Keith was glad for it.

It didn’t make it any less annoying when they pulled shit like this.

Hunk and Lance were out in a flash, Hunk only daring with Lance by his side and Lance only controlled with Hunk to pull him back. But they made a mess of the dance floor, making people actually dance until they lost sight of their friends, and Keith was left alone in the booth nursing his third and last drink. Pidge had slunk out somewhere, probably to get blackmail material, which left him alone.

The night passed as everyone steadily got drunker and drunker and the night got darker and darker. The bar was close to closing and the patrons were steadily leaving in various states of inebriation, when Lance stumbled over to him.

Pidge was slightly more sober than him but definitely drunker than Hunk, meaning the older guy had her cradled bridal style in his arms. Lance had an arm wrapped around him before Keith even knew what was happening, burrowing his nose into his neck and sighing deeply.

“There you are,” he murmured, and Keith’s heart stuttered.

“Have fun?” he asked back, paying the tab and waving to the barkeep as they slowly made their way outside.

Lance giggled. “Always! But I’d have more fun if you were dancing with me.”

“You know I don’t dance, Lance.”

“Ha, that rhymed!”

It was Keith’s turn to sigh as he wondered how he was going to get him home. He had ridden his bike here, and Lance was in no shape to hang on for the full twenty minutes it would take to get back to his apartment. They stood there on the street, wondering if he should just call Veronica to pick her brother up, when a familiar car pulled up.

Allura stuck her head through the passenger side window, white hair pillowing in the slight wind, with a faint smile on her face.

“I can take him from here.”

Lance stumbled as he recognized the voice and tried to pull away from Keith, but Keith tightened his grip on his waist, and he spun back into him. “I think I’ve got him,” he said, with a bit of an edge to his words.

Allura’s face faltered. “Well, he texted me…”  
Keith looked to Lance, and Lance attempted a shrug with a guilty look. “She’s my girlfriend…” he muttered, looking between the two of them.

“Well I’m the one here with you.”

Allura frowned. “Just let me take him home, Keith. You know you’re not going to get him home on your bike.”

“Well maybe you should have been here for him, then,” he snaps, losing his patience. “You don’t care about him for all of these years—and lord knows I’ve taken him home more than once when you could have—but now, suddenly, he’s all yours. If you want him that bad, then fine, here’s Lance.” Keith steps out of Lance’s warm hold, directing him rather forcefully by the shoulders to the passenger seat of Allura’s sleek car, opening and shutting the door with a slam.

“I hope he pukes in there,” he says, before stepping back, only to come face to face with a shocked Hunk.

Dread sinks deep into his gut, and fast.

He doesn’t give himself the chance to make anything else worse before he’s slipping around the corner to motorcycle parking, strapping on his helmet and revving the engine.

He’s halfway home, the most sober he’s been since seven o’clock last night, when the seed finally grows large enough for him to notice.

Keith Kogane might just be the tiniest, teensy bit envious of Allura.

He doesn’t acknowledge why, just pumps the engine harder as he speeds away.

~~~

He wakes with a headache and at least four angry texts from Lance, two mildly upset from Hunk, one from Pidge that’s just her cackling, and none from Allura.

Guilt and a touch of remorse forces him to send her an apology, and he considers answering Lance but just reads through the messages demanding he explain what the fuck happened last night, why the hell he was so rude, what the fuck had gotten into him with a lack of interest. He does explain just enough to Hunk, who responds in a sympathetic manner that makes Keith crawl in his skin.

He goes back to his chat with Allura, his half-assed apology lacking a significant explanation (but how in the hell do you tell someone that they snapped at you last night because they were jealous that you were dating the guy you wanted to be dating? Yeah. Thought so). Her typing bubbles appear once, twice, and a third time before a single, short sentence response comes in.

Princess: I appreciate your apology.

And they leave it at that.

~~~

 **Loverboi:** hey, still going out with us for drinks tonight?

 _Knife_ : uh probably

 _Knife_ : is allura going too?

 **Loverboi** : yeah, why wouldn’t she?

 _Knife:_ actually I don’t think I can go anymore

 **Loverboi:**???

 **Loverboi** : why not???

 _Knife_ : just remembered that I needed to finish this project for work

 **Loverboi** :…

 **Loverboi** : alrighty then. See ya next time

 _Knife_ : yup

~~~

 **Loverboi:** hey, so we were thinking of going to catch a movie tonight. You down?

 _Knife_ : sure, what movie?

 **Loverboi:** Allura wants to see five feet apart. It’s her turn to pick

 _Knife:_ I think I’ll pass then

 **Loverboi:** again?? Dude what the hell?

 _Knife_ : I just don’t wanna see that movie, sorry

 **Loverboi** : and you think any of us want to see your crappy picks?

 _Knife_ : hey, what the fuck?

 **Loverboi** : it just feels like we haven’t seen you in forever

 _Knife_ : I got coffee with Hunk and Shiro this morning

 **Loverboi** : fine, it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever

 _Knife_ : …

 _Knife_ : I’ve just been really busy. I’m sorry. I’m not avoiding you.

 **Loverboi** : if you say so. Pinky promise me you won’t skip next time unless you’re like seriously hurt, alright?

 _Knife_ : I promise

~~~

The only reason he’s even here is because Lance practically begged him to go. Allura would be gone for the weekend, and Lance hadn’t seen him in like, _forever,_ and please Keith _you have to go._

He’s here, spreading out a towel as the rest of the group fans out across a rock face overlooking the same waterfall Lance had posed by for Instagram. It’s summer and a Saturday and a place like this should be crawling with people. But for whatever reason, it had remained their secret hideaway, and every now and then another family or group would show up, but for the most part, it was largely unpopulated.

It was perfect.

The rock was smooth beneath his towel, if a bit uncomfortable, and Keith stretched out on his back to let his bare torso soak up the summer sun. Adam and Shiro were carefully making their way down the rock face (Keith could picture the careful, not-so-subtle, guiding hand that Adam had on Shiro’s back), and Hunk was laying down next to him, pulling out a large sunhat and a book.

“What?” he asked when Keith quirked a brow at him. “Shay gave it to me. It’s actually excellent shade coverage.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Keith replies with a light laugh.

“Uh huh,” Hunk says, but there’s no malice in it.

Pidge’s laughter can be heard from all the way up where they are, followed by a furious shriek from what can only be Lance. There’s some intense splashing that almost gets Keith to sit up and look, but he’s much too comfortable laying out in the sun.

Until the shrieking quiets, and the splashing stops, and everything grows quiet.

Too quiet.

He’s just opened his eyes when wet hands grab his ankles and his sides, and he’s up in an instant, jumping straight into the air with a yelp on his lips.

Lance is behind him, laughing his ass off, and Pidge is by his feet, having darted away to avoid being kicked.

“Last one down the waterfall is a space chicken!” Lance yells, and Keith feels like a teenager again as he takes off after Lance’s steadily gaining back, and he’s plummeting over the edge of a cliff before he can even stop himself.

_This is how he falls._

His feet hit the water and he’s sucking in a sharp lungful of air before the rest of him goes under as well, the current pulling him down, down, down, before he’s kicking his way back up, legs working and arms burning as he swims to the surface. He breaks the water, hair plastered to his forehead, just as another splash has him moving away, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Blinking them away, he watches as Lance’s brown head of hair pops up, and a tan hand follows it, sweeping it away from his face. Blue eyes find him, and Keith forgets how to function. It’s only a moment before he’s recovering, legs treading water to keep him above the surface.

_Huh._

Lance laughs, swimming over to him, so close that all Keith would have to do is just—

A hand brushes back his bangs, and Keith doesn’t breathe as it gently combs away the slick strands. “I have no idea how you see at all with this mess,” Lance murmurs, and Keith can’t be offended, not with him this close.

_So this is what it feels like._

The seed is a full on rose by now, all blooming petals and deep shades of red.

“Lance?”

A single word brings the even darker shades of green out, and the thorns dig into his heart. “Lance, are you there?”

“Allura?” Lance calls, kicking away from Keith and toward the center of the rock pool so he can get a better visual of the top of the cliff. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the day off after-all!” she shouts down to him, and Lance’s face breaks into a smile and Keith hates the way he hates her.

“That’s great babe!”

Keith feels the cool of the water, finally, against his skin. Goosebumps break out along his arms and he doesn’t want to be here anymore, not with Allura, not with Lance. He can’t do that to Lance.

He’s swimming away, pushing himself up and out of the water when he reaches the edge. The rocks feel rough under his feet and he grimaces as he makes his way back up to the camp they set up. There’s no real way for him to leave, and he certainly doesn’t have a good enough excuse to do so, and it digs into him the way everyone pretends like nothing is wrong. Like nothing is different.

_It’s just you. Just you and your stupid heart and everything you can’t have._

Allura—whether on purpose or by accident—greets him, and her pretty eyes narrow, crinkling the birthmarks on either side of her face.

“Keith,” she says coolly.

He doesn’t respond, pushing past her.

She’s not willing to let it go. A slim hand snags him by the arm, dragging him back to face her. Under the shade of her sunhat, her eyes are just as cold as the water was, and Keith feels defiance sparking in him. “I don’t know what I did to you,” she hisses, “but for Lance’s sake, you need to drop it. Now.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that. She’s searching his face, eyes roving, and Keith doesn’t know what she finds that finally makes her let him go. He distantly rubs the spot where she grabbed him when Lance comes jogging up behind him, sweeping Allura into a wet hug. Keith doesn’t miss the way she stiffens before relaxing, the way her face is pinched, and her body is rigid. Lance, on the other hand, is oblivious.

He leaves the couple without another word, skulking back to where his towel is still laid out, flopping down onto it and then groaning in pain when he remembers the rock underneath.

Hunk begins to say something, eyes dancing between when Lance and Allura stand and where Keith glares out at the trees, and then wisely says nothing, turning back to his technical book.

The day passes, and Lance only tries once to drag Keith back into the water. Keith resists his efforts, and eventually Lance leaves with a frown that makes Keith ache in places he didn’t know could hurt. When Shiro tries to coax him into the water later, he follows, and Lance’s eyes narrow. Keith avoids his gaze. And Allura.

The princess is on her perch at the top of the waterfall, before Lance cheers her into a jump. She lands with a laugh, surfacing like a model and Keith hates her all over again.

Her eyes land on him, and Keith doesn’t fix his face when she searches it again. It almost looks like she sneers at him, before Lance nudges her with an arm and she smiles.

_She knows._

Keith avoids her even harder after that, watching the pair from afar. They look happy. They are happy. And Keith should be happy for them.

_Envy, thy name is Keith_

But god if he doesn’t want to be the one in her place.

They all end up together on the rock as the sun starts to set, the water too cold to be in but just enough sun to dry them off and be comfortable.

It’s fun, and it’s light, and Keith wishes he could enjoy it fully.

But he can’t.

Lance is glancing between him and Allura and talking in a hushed voice and Keith doesn’t want to guess what it’s about.

Eventually, Lance stands up from where he’s sitting next to her and makes his way over to Keith, sitting gingerly down like he knows what Keith did earlier and doesn’t want to suffer from the same pain.

“What’s your deal with Allura?” he asks, not looking at Keith but instead at the sunset, the reds and blues and yellows and pinks.

“Nothing,” Keith mumbles, looking toward the sky as well.

“Well it’s obviously something,” Lance says with a huff. “You’ve been dodging plans whenever she goes out with us, you’ve been skipping around me all day when she’s there, and now you’ve been pulling away from me. What’s up with you dude?”

“Nothing,” Keith says more adamantly this time. “I’m fine. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy my ass,” Lance mutters.

“Why do you even care?” Keith snaps. “You’ve got what you’ve wanted since freshman year of college. You have the girl of your dreams, you’ve got a good job and great friends, and everything is going so very swell for you. What more do you want, Lance?”  
Lance is silent for a long moment, and the sky shifts to softer shades of lavender and pink. “I want my best friend back, without all of his petty bullshit.”

Keith swallows hard. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Lance.”

“Yeah. You have.”

“Just… just fuck off and leave me alone, alright Lance?”

Lance turns sharply to face him. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

_Because I can’t take being near you when she’s here reminding me of all that I can’t have with you._

“Because I just want space.” _From you._

“Oh ho ho, mister, don’t you think you’re getting off so easily,” Lance chuckles darkly. The atmosphere between them changes, and Keith can feel himself gearing up for a true fight. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but you need to drop the bullshit.”

“And you need to stop pretending like you haven’t ignoring everyone— _especially me_ —since Allura finally gave into your nagging and gave you a shot.”

Lance’s face darkens, and it has nothing to do with the fading light. “Why do you hate that I’m happy?”

“I don’t hate that you’re happy, I just hate that you can’t see how terrible she is for you. Because this—you being with her—this isn’t the happy Lance I know. This isn’t the Lance that dared me to race him off a cliff, the Lance that stuck chopsticks up his nose and pretended to be a walrus, the Lance that absolutely _sucks ass_ at Pictionary but plays anyway because he loves how much he can make everyone laugh with how wrong he is. You—you with Allura—that isn’t happy. That’s pretend. She’s making you into someone you don’t like and you can’t see it because all you can see is the prize you’ve finally won. The girl of your dreams, oh hallelujah, has finally given up herself to you. But you changed so much to get there, to the point where I don’t know you when I see you with her.” He’s breathing heavily and his vision has narrowed in to Lance and only Lance. He’s vaguely aware that their friends are in listening distance, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care because every word that came out of his mouth was the truth, so much more of the truth than he was ever willing to share.

Lance has gone still.

“Fuck you,” he says in a low voice, and then gets up, watching Keith with an unreadable face for a long moment before he walks back to where Allura sits, her eyes trained on Keith.

 _Jealousy is a sin,_ she mouths, and in that moment, Keith wants nothing more than to punch her pretty face.

It only took him a month and a half to realize she was right.

~~~

He’s laying in bed that night, regretting staying up so late but unable to put his phone down, when he gets a text from Lance.

 **Loverboi** : did you really mean what you said earlier?

Keith hesitates for a moment, the regret of earlier part of the reason he’s still awake at… he checks the time… 12:32 am.

 _Knife_ : some of it, yeah

 **Loverboi** : what parts of it?

 _Knife_ : That you are a different person when you’re around her. Maybe not for the worst, but she does bring out a different side of you that just isn’t the Lance I know

 **Loverboi** : I fought with her in the car home.

Keith knows it’s his fault.

 _Knife_ : oh shit, I’m sorry

 **Loverboi** : yeah, it wasn’t great

 **Loverboi** : I am happy with her, for the record. She just sometimes has some ideas I don’t agree with and when I brought up how I thought she was pushing you out of the group over a fight you two had, she lost her shit, saying she never liked you and that you were jealous of her

 _Knife_ : oh

 **Loverboi** : ridiculous, right?

 _Knife_ : totally

Neither of them says anything for a good few minutes.

 _Knife_ : I am sorry about earlier though, some of that stuff came out way harsher than intended and I didn’t mean to hurt you or cause a fight between you and Allura

 **Loverboi:** it’s alright, I know you and I’m sorry for pushing you, that’s def my fault

 _Knife_ : all good

Keith sighs, feeling some of the tension slip from his shoulders. Quick to fight, but they always made up in the end, sometimes easier, sometimes harder. Keith’s glad this one resolved in the former kind.

 **Loverboi** : it’s just… fuck sometimes I wish I hadn’t asked her out. Like I still like her and obviously I’m dating her for a reason but sometimes it just doesn’t feel right to me. Like we were so much better as friends

Keith’s heart picks up, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

 _Knife_ : yeah, I can get that. But you’re still dating her?

 **Loverboi** : yeah, not planning on breaking up with her rn. It’s just… idk. Sometimes I feel like other people just get me better

 _Knife_ : I understand

 **Loverboi** : like, I could text you that I have a hard on rn, and you’re not gonna get weird about it. Allura though? Ugh, never, she’s way too pristine for that

 _Knife_ : do you have a hard on rn?

 **Loverboi** : really? That’s what you got out of all of that?

 **Loverboi** : I mean yes but that’s not the point

 _Knife_ : and why would I not get weird about it?

 **Loverboi** : cause you know I’m gonna do something about it, and cause we’re not dating, there’s none of that jealousy or weirdness or whatever

 _Knife_ : uh huh

 **Loverboi** : I mean, of course I’m gonna take care of it, I’m a guy and it’s late at night. That’s not weird

 _Knife_ : not sure why you’re justifying yourself to me but go off I guess

His heart is beating for a very different reason now, and he squirms under his bedsheets.

 **Loverboi** : idk I just feel the need to

 _Knife_ : if it makes you feel any better, I’m in the same situation

 **Loverboi** : …yeah?

 _Knife_ : mhm

 **Loverboi** : well if we’re both in the same situation, and it’s not weird cause we’re not dating, no harm in helping each other out, right?

Keith’s heart stops all together.

 _Knife_ : depends on what you mean

Lance, as always, is blunt.

 **Loverboi** : sexting, duh

 _Knife_ : oh

 **Loverboi** : you have sexted before, right mullet

 _Knife_ : I’ve sexted enough to know that calling anyone mullet is a turnoff

 **Loverboi** : yeah yeah whatever

 _Knife_ : this feels weird

 **Loverboi** : a little

 **Loverboi** : would like a phone call be better

The call comes in before Keith even has a chance to react; he’s accepting before he has a chance to think.

Lance sighs heavily through the phone and the noise goes straight to Keith’s dick. “You there?” he asks in a low voice, because he wants to make sure Lance is actually on the other end of the line.

“You know it,” he says, and Keith thinks Lance is slightly out of breath.

“How do we do this?”

Lance chuckles, light. “I don’t know, just start and then like, tell the other what you’re doing. I don’t actually do this a lot.”

“Me neither,” Keith replies, laughing a little too.

They both fall silent as Keith puts the phone on speaker, setting it down near his head, snaking his hand down under the sheets and towards his dick. He hisses as he wraps a hand around himself, already getting worked up by the mewls Lance is echoing through the phone.

“God, this feels good,” Lance says, breathy, and Keith can’t help but moan in reply. “Got a hand around yourself there?” Keith gives him a grunt in reply, sliding his hand down to the base of his cock to squeeze once.

They both let out moans at the same time, and Keith whimpers as his thumb swipes over the head of his dick.

“I bet you look so nice,” Lance pants, “with a hand around your dick like that and your face all flushed.”

“Fuck, Lance,” Keith bites, dragging his hand up and down in a tortuously slow rhythm, trying to make all of this last even just a second longer. “I bet you like it hard and slow, pounding into someone relentless. You would be so good at that.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Another set of moans and groans as Keith’s cock leaks from the tip. He uses the precome as a lubricant, his hand slick over his dick now, picking up in rhythm.

Lance is a constant at his ear, breathing heavily, interspersed with moans and every now and then, a mewl.

“You sound so good,” Keith grunts.

“Only for you, darling,” Lance says back, and Keith shakes all over from the sultriness.

“Lance,” Keith whimpers, and Lance swears, low and dirty.

“You’re turning me on so much right now, Keith.”

“Ah-hah- _oh_ —” is all Keith can say as he speeds up, feeling that familiar heat low in his gut.

“I’m close,” Lance grunts, and Keith nods, knowing he is too, even if Lance can’t see him.

“I bet your mouth would feel so good wrapped around my cock,” Keith says, impulse control long gone, and Lance lets out a long, drawn out sound, and Keith can picture the way his face scrunches up, still perfectly framed in his mind from that time he accidentally interrupted Lance when they lived together.

“Did you just come?” Keith pants.

“Uh huh.” Lance sighs heavily. “You still going?”

“Uh huh.” But he’s close. So close. Just a little more—

“Come for me, darling,” and it tips him over the edge. Cum spills out over his hand, hot and sticky, and his legs shake as he rides out the last of his orgasm, pleasure spilling through him.

“I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum on my own,” he breathes when he can finally speak again.

“Same,” Lance says, and they both laugh a little.

“Well,” Keith says, turning his head so that he can see his phone.

“Well,” Lance echoes. “I guess that’s goodnight. Thanks for the spank bank.” And then he hangs up.

Keith stares at the phone for a moment longer, sighing at Lance’s choice of words, before rolling over and cleaning himself up.

When he climbs back into his bed, he’s about to fall asleep when a nagging little voice reminds him that this was a mistake. That Lance has a girlfriend, and this shouldn’t have happened.

That this—all of this—isn’t his.

Keith doesn’t fall asleep for a long time that night.

~~~  
He ignores Lance’s texts the next day, and the day after that.

Because that night, that phone call, none of it should have ever happened.

It’s eating him up inside, to have to watch Lance be happy with Allura and know that this _thing_ happened between them, and that she doesn’t know. Doesn’t know how goddamn jealous he is, doesn’t know how much he _wants._

Lance doesn’t stop trying to reach him though. And then it’s Hunk and Pidge and even Shiro asks him over breakfast one morning what happened between them.

Keith doesn’t know. How he let this get the better of him, doesn’t know how to fix it.

But he’s so tired of it all.

Lance’s texts just keep coming.

~~~

Princess: I hope you get what you want.

~~~

_Envy, thy name is Keith._

~~~

It’s been two weeks since he’s seen or even really spoken to Lance. For two weeks that flower has wilted, the thorns have begun to retract, and Keith has lived his life. Away from Lance.

It feels like hell.

He’s on his third sympathy breakfast of the week because while Shiro might not know what happened—read, how bad Keith fucked everything up—he does know when his little brother is hurting.

The day is clear and bright when he walks out of his apartment building, heading over to his parking spot when he sees Lance leaning against his bike.

“Don’t knock Red over,” he growls, far more concerned about the state of his bike than the surprise appearance of Lance.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Lance says in a low voice, eyes trained on his scuffed tennis shoes.

“Why are you here, Lance?” Keith asks in a tired tone as he pushes Lance gently away from his bike, just far enough so that he can strap his computer bag in.

“Why haven’t you talked to me in two weeks?”

Blue eyes look up from the pavement and Keith shifts his own gaze away.

“I’ve just been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

“Lance,” he says in a warning tone.

“Tell me the real fucking reason, you coward. Was it something I did? Did you and I have a fight I didn’t know about?”

And because he’s already fucked everything up enough and he can’t take it anymore, Keith says, “It’s because I can’t stand seeing you with Allura.”

“You’ve said that before. She wasn’t enough to fully drive you away then, so why now?”

“It’s not her,” Keith says, frustrated. Why can’t Lance just get it?

“Well obviously it was her—”

“I can’t stand seeing her with you because I want to be with you.”

The words come out in a rush and whatever Lance was saying dies on his tongue, mouth parted ever so slightly.

“What?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Keith whispers.

“Allura thought you were jealous of her,” he says in a low voice, and everything in Keith feels like its breaking. _Stupid. So fucking stupid_. “I told her she was just imagining things. There was no way you were jealous of her, what was there to even be jealous of?”

Something in Lance’s tone has Keith looking up, eye to eye, level with each other. There’s no where for him to run.

“I should have known,” Lance says, and Keith… Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing or feeling but he can’t take this… this lack of _anything_ in Lance’s tone.

“Lance—”

“We broke up.”

The air rushes out of him.

“What?”

“We broke up. I couldn’t figure out what it was but something between us just wasn’t working. After so long, it should have been perfect, but deep down, I think we both knew we were better as friends. And that certain friends—” Lance breaks eye contact, looking off to his left.

“Certain friends what?”

“Certain friends weren’t just friends,” Lance finishes in a low voice.

“Fuck, Lance, you can’t do this to me—”

“You’ve been doing it to me for _weeks_ now. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Blue eyes turn back to him, burning like Keith has never seen before, never seen directed at him.

“I’m a mess around you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so fucking jealous in my life than when I see you getting hit on by other guys or laughing with someone who isn’t me.”

“I’ve been going insane because I just couldn’t stand being near you and not being yours,” Keith chokes out in a harsh whisper. “God, you fuck me up like no other, Lance.”

_Envy is a sin, love._

“So we’re doing this then? You and me?” The slightly aggressive—desperate—tone to Lance’s voice shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does but _fuck_ , this is _Lance,_ saying he wants _him._

“Fuck yes,” Keith breathes, and then Lance is yanking him forward by the collar of his leather motorcycle jacket and their mouths are crashing together and it’s messy but its just so _right._

The thorns dig in harder, but Keith has learned to relish in the pain.

Because Lance is finally _his._

**Author's Note:**

> well this is, uh, interesting. Smut was not supposed to be in here but I got mildly carried away (oops). I had a different note here but someone messaged me on tumblr (thanks anon!) so instead of seeing what I had to say here, go over to my tumblr and check out my most recent post! (Or if you can’t find it, it’s linked in my bio)
> 
> You can contact me at:  
> tumblr: blondeslytherin  
> insta: blondeslytherine  
> email: blondeslytherine@gmail.com
> 
> thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy what's to come! Comments and kudos are never expected but always much appreciated <3


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